


change happens a step at a time, and i've walked a mile with you by my side.

by pavaal



Category: Samurai Flamenco
Genre: Guilty Boner, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:44:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1267039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pavaal/pseuds/pavaal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Goto breaks a few unspoken rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	change happens a step at a time, and i've walked a mile with you by my side.

_Shit,_ Goto thinks. He looks down at the tissue in his hand. _This is bad_.

Goto tosses the wad of used paper he’s holding to go for another, and another, and _another,_ wiping up his abdomen and around his thighs even though there’s no mess to be seen, until finally, he collapses back onto his pillows and shoves the heels of his palm against his face. Idiot. Not even Masayoshi, this time—it’s him, he’s the idiot, he’s the _asshole_ who jerked it to a men’s fashion magazine because his best friend looked so _stupidly_ inviting.

_He got_ paid _to be inviting,_ Goto chides himself. He grunts, frustrated. _What the hell kind of word is that, anyway? I’m not a predator._

Masayoshi might be a kid, but he’s not a _child_ ; he has innocence aplenty, sure, and it drives Goto up the wall when he stops to think about it, but Masayoshi has to know, in that business, he’s selling a little more than collared shirts and heady colognes.

It’s not right to shift the blame onto Masayoshi, but if Goto can’t accuse him a little, right in the depths of his heart, of being _too_ beautiful, then he has to acknowledge that his life priorities have shifted—and it’s not a conversation he’s ready to have, with himself or anyone else. So, for now, it’s an accident, a forest fire in the midst of Goto’s sexual drought because of the tiny, tiny spark that was—no, unfortunately, _is_ —Masayoshi’s bright eyes and pretty smiles. They’re as professional as they are genuine.

Goto kicks the magazine off the bed, lamely. He should shower. He should text his girlfriend. He should do absolutely anything that isn’t laying here with his boxers around his knees and a sick, anxious weight in his stomach.

He needs a cigarette.

After another pause to really let the guilt settle, he drops his arms and hikes up his underwear so he can shuffle on some slippers and take a smoke break to consider the moral consequences that await him. It’s not as though he’s ever been a person particularly mindful of right and wrong—he does what he needs to, like anyone would, and he absolutely stands for justice where justice can reasonably be served. Before Masayoshi, though, he would have kept this a secret and moved right along in his relationship without another word.

_But then,_ he thinks, and watches the smoke curl into the night air outside his apartment, _before Masayoshi, I didn’t have this problem._

He can hear Masayoshi’s voice in the back of his head now, nasally and so disappointed that it makes Goto ache to even imagine it. So he doesn’t.

“Goto-san,” he voices instead, quietly, mockingly, kicking his voice up a few notes, “I can’t believe you did that. And you said _I_ was the freak!”

It makes him feel okay, in some ways, making fun of Masayoshi and his straight-as-an-arrow lifestyle. The poor kid’s probably never even considered sex a day in his life, too wrapped up in bright colors and special effects to think about worldly problems. But, still, for better or worse, he knows Masayoshi would never react that way if tonight ever came up in drunken conversation—no, with Masayoshi, for all his excitement and enthusiasm for his life and the people in it, disappointment comes more quietly. It’s something sad and self-deprecating, and it makes Goto almost nauseated to know that Masayoshi will always blame himself before he blames anyone else.

He takes a deep drag of his cigarette and gruffly sighs it out.

If Goto and his girlfriend broke up, Masayoshi, crazy earnest fool that he is, would probably toss himself out his bedroom window in a minute’s notice to make a sudden, breathless, formal apology to the both of them. Like it’s his fault. Like it’s _his_ fault that it’s three in the morning and Goto has an early shift tomorrow and he’s thinking about breaking up with his girlfriend because he rubbed one out to the hottest fall fashions featuring Masayoshi Hazama, Samurai Flamenco, his best and only friend in the world.

He grinds his cigarette into the railing before it’s done and lets it drop.

_You’re the reason the city is slowly changing._

**Author's Note:**

> i really needed to write this fic i'm sorry it's short but i love this stupid baby anime so much and i think goto is such an interesting character especially w/r/t the way he thinks about and emotes toward masayoshi, bye.


End file.
